


come into the water

by businessboyjared



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Speedos, eddie's sexy little swimmers body
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:27:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23535262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/businessboyjared/pseuds/businessboyjared
Summary: Eddie's not even that old, but he keeps getting these stupid minor aches and pains that end up taking him out for days at a time, and all anyone tells him is that they come with age. It's bullshit.He grabs his laptop from the coffee table.non-running exercisesaerobic exercise for 40 somethingslisten im fucking old and geriatic apparently what can i do that isn't running or hiking because it all hurts nowSwimming, the search results all tell him. Just swim some laps around a pool, idiot.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 16
Kudos: 324





	come into the water

**Author's Note:**

> this is like half eddie character study and half pwp my bad?? or youre welcome, depending on what ur here for

It's the third time in as many weeks that Eddie's lying with his feet up on the couch, ice packs draped across both of his shins, pouting up a storm. Richie brings him a glass of water and kisses his forehead in sympathy. He makes a jokey remark about how _some_ _of us_ are getting older and we can't keep running and hiking fifty miles uphill and backwards every day, now can we, Edward?  
  
And Richie's right, but of course Eddie is furious about it. He's not even _that_ old. He's younger and definitely more spry than Richie, but he keeps getting these stupid minor aches and pains that end up taking him out for days at a time, and all anyone tells him is that they come with age. It's bullshit.  
  
He grabs his laptop from the coffee table.  
  
_non-running exercises_  
  
_aerobic exercise for 40 somethings  
  
listen im fucking old and geriatric apparently what can i do that isn't running or hiking because it all hurts now  
  
_Swimming, the search results all tell him. Just swim some laps around a pool, idiot.  
  
Surprisingly enough, Eddie had never considered going swimming for exercise. They have a pool, but so far they've only used it on lazy Sunday afternoons, for when Eddie gets drunk off two mimosas and takes an accidental nap on a pool float. Or lazy Sunday evenings, when Eddie sits on the warm concrete, his feet in the water and Richie's head between his legs.  
  
Their pool is a perfect size for _those_ activities, but an Olympic-sized lap pool it is not. Still, Eddie was definitely interested in trying it out as a new workout routine. He's kind of plateaued in his running recently anyway; hasn't been able to figure out how to shave more time off his 7-minute mile. He slides the ice packs off his shins and continues his research.  
  
The next morning, instead of his usual shorts and running shoes, Eddie slips out of bed and changes into his one pair of swim trunks. He grabs a towel from the hall closet and walks barefoot through the house to their back patio. It's nice and quiet out, and the mountains in the distance with their pool in the forefront looks so serene. He sucks in a deep breath of fresh air. He likes trying new things. He feels confident about this.  
  
It ends up being the worst workout Eddie's had in recent memory.  
  
He'd felt kind of stupid at first, just walking into the pool and then swimming straight ahead, only to turn back around and repeat it over and over. And Eddie knows how to swim. Of course he does. But apparently, he doesn't know how to swim and _breathe_ , because he kept getting water up his nose or choked down his throat, and then he would have to pause and gasp for air while treading water. At one point he almost makes himself faint, because his solution to the problem was just holding his breath for the length of the pool. That didn't work very well either, for obvious reasons.  
  
And his swim trunks had never felt so fucking loose in his life, like they were about to slip right off his ass each time he reached the edge of the pool and kicked off the wall to propel himself forward again.  
  
He swims for as long as he can, but the burn he feels in his arms and thighs isn't anything like when he gets in a good run—this shit _hurts_ , and when he finally drags himself out of the pool to towel off, his watch says only twenty minutes have passed, and he's sort of pissed about it. Eddie is nothing if not competitive, and now he wants to kick this pool's ass.  
  
He keeps at it. The next few times, he doesn't push himself to go as fast as he can, like he does while running. He never realized how _easy_ it is to just run. Pretty much all you had to do was avoid tripping over your own feet. Swimming presents a unique challenge in that he _feels_ weightless, but is reminded very much that he's _not_ when he has to use his whole body to drag himself through the water.  
  
It's _hard_ , which makes sense that Eddie would throw himself into it right away. After about two weeks, he starts scrolling endlessly through message boards and reddit threads about proper form and practice. It's endlessly fascinating to him, the way swimming forces him to be conscious about the position of his body. It's familiar, anyway, because that's how he felt about running, too. The way he would focus on the length of his spine and the specific way his feet hit the pavement. The difference now, with swimming, is that he found himself googling shit like _how to hold neck while swimming_ —which felt like it should be self-explanatory, except that he pays enough attention to his body to know he was doing something wrong. It felt even better to be able to correct it, and he liked the proof of his improvement.  
  
He was only a little embarrassed when he started looking at swim briefs and speedos online. He could adjust his body all he wanted, but he wasn't too proud to admit that his regular swim trunks just weren't cutting it anymore, and possibly even actively holding him back from getting better.  
  
The skimpy looking speedos were... a bit much. He wasn't _that_ serious about swimming just yet. But maybe one pair couldn't hurt? And it's not like he'd be wearing them to a public pool, so there's no chance of him looking _too_ indecent.  
  
Eddie thinks about what Richie would think of them. It's not a secret that he's _very_ into every single pair of running shorts Eddie owns. And Eddie's definitely into him being into them. But Richie doesn't even know yet that he's traded them in for swim trunks—he's always dead asleep when Eddie climbs out of bed, and even long after his post-workout showers.  
  
He doesn't _want_ the speedo to be a sex thing. But he's not stupid enough to convince himself that it won't become one.  
  
Eddie adds it to his cart. A plain black one, along with a modest pair of jammers, ones that look more like thigh-length bike shorts.  
  
Eddie comes home from work later that week to a small box on the kitchen island—not discreetly packaged at _all_ , like he'd foolishly hoped—and his eyes dart from it to Richie, who's sitting there with his hands folded. He looks like a parent about to scold their teenager for not making curfew.  
  
"Eds, do you have something to tell me? Are you wearing speedos in _secret_? Is it a fetish for that other boyfriend you have on the side?" Richie teases him.  
  
Eddie comes around to kiss him hello, and then he punches Richie in the shoulder for his smart mouth. Richie hisses in pain but smiles anyway. Eddie tucks the box under his arm. "It's summer, so I got a new swimsuit. And it's Speedo _brand_ , not an actual speedo."  
  
"That's a shame," Richie sighs. "I'd love to see _you_ in a tiny little banana hammock." He smacks Eddie's ass as he walks past him towards their bedroom.  
  
Eddie stops and turns around. "Was that you talking to my ass?"  
  
"Maybe."  
  
He flips him off over his shoulder and Richie just laughs. Eddie unboxes the swimwear, and suddenly feels too nervous to try either pair on, so he just shoves them to the back of his sock drawer and returns to the kitchen to help with dinner.  
  
In the morning, Eddie debates not wearing them at all. The jammers are obviously less... um, _titillating_ than the briefs, but they're still skin-tight and do not leave much to the imagination when it comes to the crotch area. But then he thinks about his stupid, baggy swim trunks flopping all over his hips in the water, and he very quickly gets over himself.  
  
The difference in his performance is a fucking miracle. He ends up swimming for 45 minutes rather than his usual 30, he's feeling so damn jazzed about it. After his shower, he takes the jammers back outside to hang dry on their clothesline, which is thankfully out of view from most of their windows in the house. He _knows_ he's being weird, sneaking around and keeping it a secret from Richie. But he wants it to be _his_ thing before it's _their_ thing, or even a sex thing at all, and maybe that only makes sense to his own brain, but it's how he feels about it.  
  
The following morning, he realizes his jammers are still outside. And like, he _could_ walk all the out there and then back inside to change, but it being 6 am and all, he just wants to get started with his workout as soon as possible.  
  
He puts on the tiny pair of briefs without thinking too much about it and heads to the pool.  
  
Thirty something minutes later, and Eddie feels better than any runner's high he's ever experienced. The way his bare thighs felt as they flexed against the water... it was like his body had become a red hot knife slicing through a stick of butter. Fucking awesome.  
  
He shakes some water out of his ear and his good mood comes screeching to a halt.  
  
_Shit_. He forgot a fucking towel.  
  
He remembers immediately where he left it this morning: on the closed toilet seat lid in their bathroom. He'd been half-asleep getting changed, and now he has to walk through their house in a fucking _speedo_ , jesus christ. For a split second, he actually considers peeling them off and just going inside fully naked. Richie's seen him naked. What he _hasn't_ seen is Eddie in a speedo. Naked would be far less embarrassing.  
  
Eddie takes a breath to calm himself down. It's barely 7am, there's no possible universe in which Richie is any level of awake. He can do this, he can sneak by unseen. And then he can burn both pairs of swim bottoms, and never look at the pool again, and maybe change his identity while he's at it. Just to be safe.  
  
He slides the back door open and focuses all of his attention on not busting his wet ass on the slick tile. He tiptoes quickly and silently down the hall.  
  
Eddie pushes open the door to their bedroom, and there's Richie: one-hundred percent awake and sitting up in bed, scrolling through his phone. He glances up on instinct at the sound of the door opening, and then immediately does a double take—they stare at each other wide-eyed for one long, silent moment. Richie's eyes trail down his body to look at his briefs, which suddenly feel like nothing more than a see-through scrap of fabric covering his junk. Eddie gulps loudly.  
  
"Uh." he says. He points a shaking finger to their bathroom. "Forgot my towel..." Eddie tries to make a run for it, but Richie stops him.  
  
"Wait!" Richie pats at his leg over the comforter. "C'mere? Wanna see."  
  
Eddie shivers, and he doesn't know if it's from the water dripping down his back, or the way Richie's voice is still kind of rough and low from sleep. He feels his feet move of their own accord, and pretty soon he's standing with his knees against the side of the bed, his dick practically eye level with Richie's face.  
  
Richie brings one of his hands up to rest on Eddie's thigh. It's warm and dry where his skin is cold and wet, and when he shivers again Richie looks up at him.  
  
"Were you in the pool?"  
  
Eddie laughs a little. Richie's always kind of stupid in the morning, while his brain works to get back online. "Yes, I was in the pool. You're a regular Sherlock Ho- _olmes_ , oh—"  
  
Richie drags his hand further up his thigh to cup Eddie's dick through the wet fabric.  
  
"Mm... your dick looks really cute in these," he says. He rubs the heel of his palm hard against him, and then spreads his fingers wide to slide his hand up over Eddie's belly and ribs. Richie throws his phone aside and leans in closer to press a single kiss over Eddie's hipbone.  
  
Eddie shivers hard again. That's all he seems to be able to fucking do right now. That, and sink his hands into Richie's hair to keep him close. He gasps at the sudden warmth of Richie's tongue sneaking out to lick into his belly button.  
  
" _Shit_... Richie, can you—" Eddie was about to ask him for a kiss. What he gets is Richie gripping his hips firmly in both hands, and then turning him around so he can look at his ass. Eddie groans at the way Richie's thumbs slide down and dig into the backs of his thighs.  
  
"Oh, they make your ass look just as cute, babe. You gotta wear these more often," Richie hums against his skin, kissing and biting over the dimples of his lower back.  
  
Eddie moans loudly when he pushes the briefs down just enough to lick sloppily at the very top of his crack.  
  
"I probably will—ah, _fuck_!" Eddie tries to say through his gasps of pleasure. Richie's tongue and hands move slowly all over him, still warm and lazy with sleep, and Eddie's already pushing his hips back to get more. "They're new... I've been swimming instead of—" His mouth drops open in a silent moan when Richie bites gently at the flesh of his ass. "Instead of running... Do you like these more than my shorts?" Eddie asks, twisting his neck around to look down at Richie.  
  
Richie meets his eyes and stick his tongue out to lick a long, slow stripe up one cheek. He catches a sliding drop of pool water with his mouth and Eddie's eyebrows pinch up and he moans quietly at the way Richie laps it up like he's thirsty for it.  
  
"Apples and oranges," Richie says and places a kiss to each of Eddie's ass cheeks. He's kneading the flesh of them with both hands, pushing and pulling them apart gently, then letting go so he can watch them drop and jiggle. "God, I fucking love your ass, Eddie." Eddie says nothing in response, just whimpers and grips their nightstand with one hand to keep himself from falling forward.  
  
His brain's fuzzy with arousal so he's not quite sure what happens, but in the span of about five seconds, Richie leaps up, pushes Eddie onto his stomach on the bed, whips his briefs off, then kneels on their bedroom floor between his spread legs. Richie licks a wide, hot stripe right over his hole and he fucking _keens_ into it like a whore. He grips the sheets and leans up on his tip toes, trying to push his ass even closer against his mouth.  
  
" _Eddie_ ," Richie moans against his skin. "You taste like chlorine, _fuck_ , that's so hot..." He gasps and dives back in to lick long and slow over him, like he's fucking savoring the chemical taste. Eddie feels his tongue move from his balls all the way up, over his taint and hole, and higher up between his cheeks to the very top of his ass. Richie gets a good handful of each cheek and spreads him wide, pants hot breath over his damp skin until Eddie twitches and whines desperately for more.  
  
"Rich, _god_ , your fucking mouth— _ahh!_ " Eddie cuts himself off with a high-pitched moan when Richie points his tongue and gets to work fucking it against his hole.  
  
Eddie throws one arm back, reaching around blindly for Richie's head. He brushes against the top of his sleep-mussed hair and digs his fingers in right away, holds on _tight_ , trying to ride Richie's face and use his hair as the reins to spur him on.  
  
The sheets and blankets are warm where they're trapped under his lap, and he grinds his dick down to take the edge off a bit. Eddie's eyes slip shut and all he can focus on is how fucking _good_ Richie's making him feel right now. He sets a quick, wet pace against him and the sounds coming out of his mouth are fucking obscene but god, Eddie loves hearing them. He pulls his hand out of Richie's hair now that the desperation in him has settled into a low simmer in his lower belly. And he knows how much Richie loves it when he just lies back and lets himself be taken care of every now and then.  
  
"Richie..." Eddie moans, just to let him know he's doing a fucking bang up job back there. Just really great, fantastic, A-plus. He feels Richie pull his mouth away just enough to smile against him.  
  
"Doing alright up there?" He teases, and rubs his hands up and down the backs of Eddie's thighs. His skin is still kind of wet from the pool and the way Richie's palms smooth right over him is hypnotizing.  
  
"Mhm," He nods, and then humps slowly against the bed a few times, now that Richie's mouth is off him.  
  
"Do you wanna come like this?" Richie ask in between kissing the backs of his knees.  
  
" _Yes_ , please," He begs. And then adds, "And don't stop after, either. Only when I say."  
  
"Bossy, bossy," Richie hums, and Eddie's retort gets caught in his throat when Richie starts licking and sucking at him again, faster now than before.  
  
He shoves his forehead against the mattress, panting short and hard and he just fucking _takes_ it, Richie's stubbled chin sending pinpricks of pain up his spine that are immediately soothed by the slurping of his tongue. It's not long before Eddie's pushing up on both elbows, head twisted around to watch wide-eyed as Richie eats him out like he's a fucking four-course meal.  
  
" _Shit_ , Richie, gonna come..." And the admission of it actually makes him laugh a little, high and breathless, because he doesn't know what else to do when he's getting rimmed within an inch of his fucking life. He reaches his hand back again to dig his fingers in Richie's hair, just to touch some part of him.  
  
Richie unhooks his teeth from an ass cheek and says, "Aw, so soon?"  
  
And Eddie laughs again, louder and from his belly this time, because he loves Richie and he loves when Richie gives him shit for being _such a quick lay_ , and because he loves to laugh with him at all times but especially like this; laid bare for only each other to see.  
  
"Yeah, so you better get back to work. Your union break is over." He grins down at Richie and then grips his hair hard to push his mouth back where it belongs.  
  
He works his mouth against him for a few seconds and then pulls back to laugh breathlessly, "There's a _labor union_ for eating you out? Oh god, how do I join? I'll pay my dues on time, I'll take all the classes, I _promise_ —"  
  
"Fuck off!" Eddie giggles and shoves at his head again. Richie's still laughing when he gets back to it, and the vibrations of it against him bring Eddie right up to the edge. "Oh god, Richie, _there,_ yeah—" He chokes out, come spurting against their sheets.  
  
Eddie's eyes squeeze shut and he moans loudly, dick twitching through his orgasm. He hears Richie suck in a deep breath through his nose and then he feels his tongue move even faster along his hole, pushing himself in deeper, and Eddie's immediately overwhelmed by the feeling so soon after he's come, but at least Richie can follow directions, too.  
  
" _Ahhhh_ —!" He whines and bucks his hips forward to chase the pressure on his dick, and then immediately shoves them back again when he misses Richie's mouth on him. "Oh god, that's really good... Richie, you're _so_ good..." Eddie moans mindlessly against the sheets. He's pretty sure he's drooling onto them,the side of his face pressed into them and his mouth wide open.  
  
Richie lets out his own moan against him, and Eddie laughs a little how predictable he is in bed. He fucking loves it. "Yeah, I know you love being good for me, baby," Eddie coos. He flails an arm back to reach for him and Richie immediately slides one of his hands up to lock their fingers together, even though the angle is weird.  
  
He smiles to himself at the gesture and feels his heart do a little flip in his chest. The combined sensations of Richie's fingers around his and Richie's wet lips and tongue working him open... the backs of his eyes burn a little, and he squeezes them shut tight against the unexpected build up of emotions. His dick is half-hard already and aching from the onslaught of stimulation and he feels like he could come again, _god_ he wants to, he—  
  
Eddie pushes himself up on an elbow when he hears a quiet slapping sound behind him. He looks around to see Richie, eyes closed, face and tongue still buried in his ass. His right arm has slunk down and Eddie can't see his dick from here, but he watches Richie's bicep flex while he jerks himself fast and hard.  
  
"Oh _fuck_ , baby. You look good like this," Eddie hums and Richie opens his eyes to look at him but he doesn't dare stop. They hold eye contact for a long moment, nothing but heat and passion between them. Eddie finally breaks and looks away to hump against the bed again, now fully hard and on edge just from watching Richie get off on the taste of him.  
  
He gets one good stroke against his dick and comes a second time with a quiet intensity that has his knees shaking and toes curling against the floor. Eddie pushes weakly at Richie's head, who leaves one last lingering kiss on the back of his thigh before resting his head there to pant and groan into his leg while he finishes himself off.  
  
Eddie cracks one eye open when he feels Richie flop on the bed next to him.  
  
"You'll get your union card in the mail tomorrow."  
  
Richie laughs, high and mighty, and gathers Eddie up into his arms. "Thanks, boss!"  
  
Eddie rolls his eyes but rubs his face deeper into his hairy chest. Then he remembers how this all fucking started, and he has to laugh again.  
  
"What's so funny?" Richie asks, bemused.  
  
"I knew you'd like that fucking speedo, _perv_." He twists one of Richie's nipples playfully and then yelps and laughs harder when he gets pinched back.  
  
"Don't make fun of me for being jocksexual, I can't help it!"  
  
They wrestle around for a few minutes before Eddie finally grumbles something about chlorine stink and escapes to the bathroom.  
  
"Don't 'forget' your towel again!" Richie yells after him sarcastically, and is rewarded with a face full of sopping wet speedo that Eddie slingshots at him from across the room.


End file.
